Building Bridges
by KnightMara
Summary: Beru is witness to a touching moment in the Lars homestead.
1. Default Chapter Title

Beru stood silently in the kitchen washing the dishes from dinner. Glancing back at the doorway that led to the dining room, she wondered how her two "men" were faring by themselves. She'd left them alone in the dining room, hoping it would prompt Owen to talk to the boy, but she heard nothing. Sighing, she placed a clean cup on a shelf and brushed her bangs from her eyes. Owen could be so difficult sometimes.

In the three years since Luke had been brought to their home, the job of raising him had fallen primarily on her. Owen, the man who had so often professed to her that he would do anything to become a father, had retreated from his duties to Luke the moment he learned of the child's identity. Beru was left to handle the boy on her own and lament her husband's dismissal of the one chance he would ever have to raise a child. More than anything, she wanted her husband to think of Luke the way she did, as the only son she would ever have. Instead, he insisted on viewing the child as a burden that would more than likely put their lives in jeopardy. 

Letting out another sigh, Beru turned away from the silence of the dining room. She had hoped that tonight would be different. Owen had been in a wonderful mood when he arrived home today. He and the two hands he'd hired several months ago had pulled in a glorious harvest, the best they'd had in years. Luke had greeted him at the door with a cold glass of water and had received a pat on the head and a warm smile in return. At dinner, the usually taciturn Owen had spoken long and animatedly about the day's work and what it would mean for them. Especially encouraging for Beru was the fact that Luke had been included as part of the family in his discussion. So after dinner was over, she'd retreated into the kitchen and left them alone instead of taking Luke into the kitchen with her to help with dishes as she'd always done. 

Maybe she was hoping for too much too soon, she thought as silence continued from the next room. She couldn't imagine what was going on in there, but she suddenly felt the urge to rescue poor Luke from the uncomfortable presence of a non-speaking Owen. Beru knew how uneasy the man's quiet demeanor could make a young child. She'd seen one of their neighbor's children squirm under his soundless, steady gaze. Reacting to her curiosity, she placed the last cup on the shelf and moved to the doorway to look in on them.

And froze in astonishment.

The two still sat at the table where she'd left them. Owen appeared to be reading a piece of flimsy that he held in his left hand, while he held a cup of water in his right. Beru noted that he wasn't actually reading, however. Both eyes were on Luke, who sat with identical posture, a napkin in his left hand and a cup of water in his right. She watched as Owen slowly placed the flimsy on the table and tapped it with his index finger. Almost instantly, Luke did the same with his napkin, and Beru was forced to hold her washcloth to her mouth to keep from laughing at the seriousness with which the barely four year-old boy tapped the napkin with his chubby finger.

Owen then raised his cup and finished off the water that was in it in one long gulp.

Luke lifted his own cup and, having barely a swallow of water left, was able to do the same.

Owen lowered the cup to the table and pushed it into the center with one finger. 

Carefully, Luke copied his movements.

Owen folded his hands on the table.

Luke's tiny hands mimicked the action.

Lifting his still folded hands off the table, Owen propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on the interlaced fingers.

Luke duplicated the motion and then cocked his head toward Owen with a daring grin.

Responding to the challenge, Owen dropped his hands and drummed a rhythm on the tabletop.

With glee, Luke beat an identical rhythm with his own tiny hands.

With hands still on the table, Owen leaned forward and made a face so silly and ugly that Beru was beside herself as she stood witness.

She watched as the little boy leaned forward and made a face as silly and ugly as her husband's. 

Resisting the urge to smile at the boy's expression, Owen made his face stonily serious and reached over to pinch Luke's nose with his thumb and forefinger.

Luke's face became as serious as Owen's did as he reached out and pinched the man's nose with his own fingers.

Beru watched with amazement as her husband's expression shifted into something resembling a wry smirk before he reached over and snatched his napkin and wiped it across his nose where the boy had pinched it. This sent Luke into a fit of giggles that continued even as Owen began to wipe Luke's own fingers with the napkin.

"Oh, you think that's funny, sticky-fingers?" she heard Owen say as he continued to wipe the boy's fingers.

Still giggling, Luke managed to nod.

"You think that's funny?"

Luke continued to giggle and managed, "Yeah!"

Startled by her husbands playful mood and interaction with the boy, Beru continued to watch mesmerized as he snatched Luke right out of his seat and swung him onto his lap, tickling him the whole time.

"What about this?" he called over the noise of a giggling child. "Is this funny?"

Luke squealed and laughed and called out "No," between breaths.

"But you're laughing," Owen pressed, continuing to tickle the boy. "Why are you laughing if it's not funny?"

Luke could only squirm and wriggle in the large man's arms, hollering with laughter. 

When at last the tickling stopped, Luke was breathless and red-faced and beaming with a smile that spread from ear to ear. Owen himself wore a smile that was warmer and more fatherly than any Beru had seen on her husband before. He leaned forward and pulled the boy close to his chest, placing a quick kiss on his tousled blonde hair. Then he said, "Go see if your Aunt is ready to come out of the kitchen."

Beru had the urge to duck back out of view, but she knew she'd been found out already. So instead she stood in the doorway, smiling at her husband as he looked up at her and smiled in return. She could not help the surge of emotion that ran through her at the sight of Owen with the young boy in his arms, smiling at her over the mop of curly blonde hair that wriggled in his arms. She felt a lump in her throat and the threat of tears in her eyes as she watched Owen interact with the child that fate had given them when she couldn't. She refused to cry at the feeling of relief that her husband had finally accepted little Luke into their lives.

And then Luke shifted in Owen's arms and threw his arms around the man's neck in a fierce hug. Planting a big, loud, and sloppy kiss on his cheek as only a child can, Luke scrambled out of Owen's lap and ran into the kitchen. 

As he headed toward his aunt, he missed the tears that suddenly glistened in his uncle's eyes and the unfamiliar blush that crept into the man's cheeks. He missed the exchanged glances between husband and wife, feeling for the first time that they were truly a family. And he missed the warm, fatherly gaze that followed him as he ran into the kitchen.

But he didn't miss the tears in her eyes.

Momentarily bewildered, he tugged at her arm to bring her closer to him. Comprehending the situation with his four year-old wisdom, he pulled her close and gave her a kiss on the cheek as well. "Don't feel bad. I love you, too," he said with another tight hug before dashing into the kitchen to see what work had to be done.

Husband and wife stared at each other across the room. A bridge had been crossed, and they were a family now. No matter what the boy's name was.


	2. Disclaimer

Per MorganD's review, here is the disclaimer:

Steven Speilberg is The Man, and I am as guilty of Jaws-scene revision/adaptation as Kevin Smith in Chasing Amy.  :D

Seriously, though, I was inspired by that scene in Jaws where Brody and his son have a bonding moment while Brody is feeling rather upset over the situation in Amity. That scene has always touched me, and even more so when I saw the EXACT SAME THING happen in a restaurant with a little kid and his dad (totally unrelated to Jaws, I'm sure). So after seeing it happen in person and getting a little misty while thinking of the scene from Jaws, I got to thinking that there were no bonding moments between Luke and Owen. Then I pictured the two of them having a similar moment, and voila, the story was written.

On a side note, lo and behold, the advertising company for Holiday Inn (or was it Howard Jonhson's) got the same idea, and they show a father and son moment that is very similar to Jaws as well. Hmmm, wonder if this is a common occurrence between sons and father figures. . . .


End file.
